


renaissance.

by carlsdimples



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Renaissance AU, Showki, chef!kihyun, it's kinda fast paced i'm sorry, painter!hyunwoo, poet!hyunwoo, they both live in paris sjdndksk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:41:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25217914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carlsdimples/pseuds/carlsdimples
Summary: " to hyunwoo, kihyun's voice felt like bright coloured paint strokes on a dark canvas; pleasing, vibrant, lively. "ー in which artist hyunwoo falls in love with his flatmate kihyun.
Relationships: Son Hyunwoo | Shownu/Yoo Kihyun
Comments: 8
Kudos: 62





	renaissance.

**Author's Note:**

> [ 1700/800; neoclassicism.  
>  1785/873; alessandro manzoni.  
>  1844/66; charles baudelaire.  
>  1859; charles baudelaire, 'the albatross'.  
>  1844/900; friedrich nietzsche.  
>  1883-85; friedrich nietzsche, 'thus spoke zarathustra'. ]

"remember the only reason i'm allowing you to stay here is to help me pay rent," the short man said with an annoyed tone.

this wasn't really what hyunwoo had planned, nor what he expected from his life; in his twenty-something years of being alive he never had to share his house - which now consisted of three rooms instead of the sixteen he was used to back in england - with someone other than his parents and his younger brother.

"trust me, i know."

hyunwoo had only brought with him a few clothes, money and art supplies, everything that could fit in his worn out bags; his parents didn't even help him pay to get from england to france, and hyunwoo knew he would've had to find a job to pay for university as the money he brought with him probably wouldn't last more than a couple months, considering he needed to buy food and pay rent.

hyunwoo's parents were rich, very rich, a noble family living in a noble home; his father was a lawyer, an important one at that, and his mother was nothing but his father's wife. as much as hyunwoo respected both his parents, he hated how his mother's figure was constantly overshadowed by her husband's. sometimes, it looked like his mother didn't even want to marry the man in the first place. 

hyunwoo and his younger brother, growing up as sons of rich people, got to learn how to read, and write even. hyunwoo, being the oldest one, had had the opportunity to spend time with close friends of his father: historians, writers, painters, poets.

he knew his father would've liked for him to take a similar career path to his, but hyunwoo just couldn't help his constantly growing interest for art. it was something humans put together, yet it seemingly had nothing to do with reality, it was always too perfect.

hyunwoo had read books that told beautiful stories of forever happy people, had seen beautiful paintings that represented life's beauty. that's what he believed art was, for a while: the expression of life at its best; until he got to chat with the historians, got to know all that had happened, what people who lived before him firmly believed was the truth. he concluded humans are just in desperate need of believing in something, finding a sort of undeniable truth; some blindly trust religion, science, others no one but themselves. hyunwoo soon found himself disillusioned with life, with nothing to believe in; all he knew, at some point, was that beauty wasn't society's standards, but freedom, being himself.

as hyunwoo got older, he got more and more curious. 

after all the sappy stories and love poems his father made him read, there were sad stories void of a happy ending; canvases stained with such dark colours, and yet that was the closest thing to reality he'd ever seen. it was beautiful, because it felt so oddly personal, unlike the usual paintings which only focused on copying something in detail. stacked behind all the books of sickeningly sweet poems and delicate feelings, were works of poets whose hearts were filled with agony, for one reason or the other; that, that felt real, and hyunwoo couldn't help but fall in love with it all.

that's when he decided, he wanted to become one of those who painted reality, no matter how dark it could be, one of those who dared ink their thoughts on paper for everyone to see, no matter how difficult it could be.

and that decision led hyunwoo to this day: on his own, in a different country, forced to live with someone else to afford a place to sleep. he'd lie if he said he wasn't scared; everything felt incredibly terrifying, and hyunwoo just wanted to go to sleep forever and tell himself that it was going to be fine. 

at the same time, he was euphoric; it was going to be hard, he knew this, but he finally had the chance to live his own life, to make decisions for himself. right now, it didn't matter to him that his father absolutely hated him for his life choices; when he painted, when he wrote, he felt content, like time slowed down for him, like he wasn't in that constant rush life put everyone through.

it took hyunwoo a while to get to know the man living with him; yoo kihyun, originally born in a small city somewhere - hyunwoo didn't even understand the name when kihyun told him - then moved to paris to become a chef - a pretty good one too, hyunwoo knew because after a couple of weeks of him skipping breakfast due to never having learned how to cook, kihyun wanted to be kind and started making him breakfast and dinner, which hyunwoo appreciated more than he showed. kihyun spoke french very well, better than hyunwoo, and even helped him translate things when writing for university; at some point, hyunwoo had to memorize kihyun's physical appearance, too, as he was his only friend and thus the only model for his paintings that included human figures, since he decided to take art as well as literature and poetry. 

kihyun was shorter than hyunwoo, and paler; he was also less muscular, as hyunwoo walked around all day while his flatmate was mainly stuck baking or cooking. he kept his hair a little longer than hyunwoo's, with soft bangs hiding his forehead; he had a habit of stressing his bottom lip, hyunwoo had noticed, and he constantly looked annoyed or upset; though hyunwoo soon found out he was just very stressed, because when he sometimes had a day off work his features were more relaxed and he was so peaceful, he sang all day while he cleaned the house.

kihyun's voice was truly precious, hyunwoo thought the first time he heard him singing. it was so melodic, and carried so much emotion; hyunwoo loved it. and so he asked kihyun to sing every time they were both stuck at home - the younger baking and the older painting or writing for university.

to hyunwoo, kihyun's voice felt like bright coloured paint strokes on a dark canvas; pleasing, vibrant, lively.

another thing that amazed hyunwoo, was how kihyun had been working almost his entire life despite being the youngest of the two, while hyunwoo had always had someone do everything for him; and now, here hyunwoo was, without a job and still studying, while kihyun showed enough maturity to care for both himself and the older man. 

his father would never approve of this, hyunwoo thought, sometimes. he didn't even know where his son moved, had no clue of what his address could be, and never made any effort to keep in touch with him. sometimes, hyunwoo thought his father would be incredibly disappointed if he just somehow happened to walk in his little apartment - that consisted of a living room that was also a kitchen, one bathroom and one single bedroom.

he pictured his father glaring at the dark coloured, worn out couch next to the little window in one side of the living room, that sadly didn't match the light gray furniture and cooking supplies kihyun had the patience to reorganize countless times on the other side of the room behind a small wooden table with two little stools on either side. 

he knew his father would have absolutely hated how messy his side of the bedroom looked, his bed constantly unmade, papers scattered everywhere on his desk and countless canvases and paint and brushes laying around, while kihyun's side looked the complete opposite, always clean and organized.

kihyun was so organized and a clean freak, hyunwoo was shocked when - more than once - he accidentally spilled paint on the living room's wall while painting and half expected the younger to actually kick him out, yet kihyun only said it made their apartment look more personal and even waited for the paint to dry before cleaning that side of the room again.

one day, kihyun and hyunwoo had a serious conversation. kihyun had just come home late at night from work, only to find hyunwoo still sitting by the window, half asleep, scribbling something on a piece of paper.

kihyun sat next to hyunwoo, who looked lost, his expression always the same, yet his eyes glossy.

"i was thinking about my parents," hyunwoo had told kihyun. he didn't know why he trusted him so much, yet when he was with him he felt at ease, like he could say anything - his dreams, doubts, and everything he'd ever thought about.

"were your parents supportive of your dream, ki?"

kihyun looked outside the window at the starry sky, "they were, until a few years ago. they passed away, and since then i've been on my own."

"how did you keep going?"

kihyun leaned his head on hyunwoo's shoulder, "i was sad that my parents died, but it wasn't my fault, nor theirs. i just did what they would have wanted me to do, be happy," he sighed, "i am happy now. life sucks, poor people are being stepped on by richer ones, the government is falling apart, people are realizing life is empty. but i'm satisfied with waking up every day and making you breakfast, then going to work and seeing people pass by, wondering what their lives must be like, then coming back home and seeing you."

"i like living with you, kihyun." 

kihyun smiled, "are you saying that because i cook for you?" 

"that too," hyunwoo wrapped his arm around kihyun's smaller frame, "but i like your company. it makes me feel like we share a similar goal, happiness."

"ah, you're in search of someone who'll stay with you because you're looking for the same thing, not because they're willing to blindly follow you."

since that day, they had more conversations like that. they felt like they could share everything with each other, they became closer; physically, too, as after that day kihyun had started welcoming hyunwoo home with a hug every day, and sometimes they even slept together, reveling in each other's warmth.

to hyunwoo, kihyun was special. everyone he had met before, once he got to know them, was easy to read. kihyun was different; like the centre of a flower, the younger was hiding under the layers of petals that were his habits. he never ceased to amaze hyunwoo, to surprise him. hyunwoo didn't notice it at first, but his works had become more and more inspired by kihyun. he couldn't help it, and he definitely didn't mind it. hyunwoo suddenly found himself fond of the younger; he couldn't keep his eyes off of him, and couldn't stop thinking about him, and the way kihyun smiled at him when he caught hyunwoo staring, he would paint it over and over again, and never get tired of it.

hyunwoo had read what love was; he just never believed in it, it was too good to be true. or maybe he just thought of it in the wrong way: love didn't mean perfection, nor life getting any easier. being with kihyun didn't make his professors nicer, and it didn't make the weather better or help the financial crisis, but it made him feel safe, cared for. he knew kihyun was always going to be there for him, no matter how late he came home - he knew he'd find the younger sitting on the couch reading hyunwoo's homework, and no matter how tired they both were, kihyun knew hyunwoo would still find the strength to ask him how his day went as they dozed off to sleep in each other's arms.

just like that, a few years had passed, much quicker than hyunwoo would've wanted; kihyun finally opened his own little bakery, and hyunwoo finally graduated. hyunwoo and kihyun shared so many moments together; but now hyunwoo could afford his own little apartment, he no longer needed kihyun's help to pay rent. he no longer needed to have a place to stay that was close to the university, and he no longer needed kihyun to wake him up every morning.

he greeted kihyun, sadly, the same worn out bags from years ago in his hands. hyunwoo slowly walked out of the building, feeling the winter evening's cold air wrapping around him and easily reaching his skin through his coat. he stopped once he stepped outside, still on the sidewalk. something kept him from crossing the road, from going away. he didn't understand, he knew he didn't need kihyun's help anymore, he could manage on his own, he didn't want to be a lifelong burden to the younger. 

and yet, he felt blue, all of a sudden everything around him reminded him of kihyun, of the old good memories; as he slowly moved forward, he looked up at the sky. 

the sky was decorated with bright stars, almost as bright as kihyun's smile; he realized, it wasn't that something was holding him back from leaving. hyunwoo stopped to sit on a wooden bench by the seine, dropping his bags in front of him. 

it was silent, for a while, the only noise coming from the polluted river; hyunwoo thought about it, one more time. the reason he couldn't bring himself to leave kihyun was his own heart, telling him that nothing could make him feel happier than the younger could.

footsteps were heard, and then a thud next to hyunwoo on the small bench.

hyunwoo turned his head just as he felt trembling arms snake around him; "you idiot, making me run after you in such cold weather," the man nagged, but hyunwoo could only smile. he took off his jacket, wrapping it around kihyun's shivering body; "did i forget something?"

kihyun glared at the older, "yes, you forgot me," hyunwoo's smile got wider, "stay with me, hyunwoo," kihyun unwrapped his arms from hyunwoo's chest, fumbling nervously with his sleeves. "i think i'm in love with you," kihyun admitted with a firm tone, though his cheeks were visibly burning.

he stood up, hyunwoo doing the same; when kihyun turned around to leave, hyunwoo grabbed his hand, intertwining their fingers and making kihyun spin around to face him.

"i think i love you too," hyunwoo whispered, as he admired the way the shorter man's eyes glistened under the starry evening, and leaned closer; he watched as kihyun's eyes fluttered closed, his lips slightly parted in unsteady breaths. he smiled at the sight, before finally sealing their lips together in a soft kiss, that left kihyun's stomach filled with butterflies and hyunwoo's mind dizzy.

hyunwoo reluctantly pulled away and grabbed his bags, "lead the way, then."

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading ! <3  
> also i can explain the notes at the beginning if you want lol :')


End file.
